


Revisionist History

by kangeiko



Category: Alias
Genre: Canon-Compliant, Gen, Pre-Canon, Russia, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-06
Updated: 2006-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 18:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kangeiko/pseuds/kangeiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Irina was nearing a sensible enough age.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Revisionist History

**Author's Note:**

> alias500 prompt: 'places'

They trained her in Zvyozdny gorodok, alongside the astronauts. Elena liked to imagine that the project was as important as the space race, but seeing as how they had already won, it took the wind out of her sails a little bit. Still, she didn't have to put up with Katya and Irina, who were still practically bound to her mother's skirts. Thank Christ for small mercies.

"D'you think you'll go to space, Eli?" Irina asked one, cracking open pumpkin seeds with her teeth. Mother had brought the two girls with her to visit bestest, oldest, most successful daughter (and the clearances it took did not bear mentioning). Elena had no illusions about any warmth in the gesture; she knew full well she was being used as an example, and that her family's predisposition towards this sort of work couldn't hurt either. Still, one weekend a year wasn't too much to bear, and Irina was nearing a sensible enough age. "Like Gagarin?"

All right, perhaps she hadn't grown out of youthful fantasies yet. Still, Katya had managed to be thrice as annoying in the few short hours she had stayed indoors, so Elena was willing to be a trifle more lenient with her youngest sister. "We haven't sent any women to space, yet, Ira. Why would you think the Union would sent _me_?" Plus, Irina had yet to grow out of youthful hero-worship alongside her youthful fantasies, and a little ego-stroking wasn't always a bad thing.

_Crack snap crack snap crack snap_, Irina's nimble fingers worked through the cone of seeds, throwing the shells amidst the poppies. "Well, _someone_ has to be first," she reasoned, "and they're not training _any_ women for it."

"Maybe Politbureau is just not telling people they are," Elena said. They'd reached a small incline covered in thick grass and budding red poppies, and Elena carefully folded her long legs beneath her. Irina stayed standing, flicking pumpkin seed shells onto the ground and bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Maybe they've been training them in secret."

"That makes no sense, Eli. I'm telling mama you're teasing me!" Irina scowled, flicking unopened seeds at Elena's head.

"Hey, enough of that!" With a sharp movement, Elena snatched the paper cone out of Irina's hands and closed it, tucking it into her satchel. "If you can't behave, you're not having any snacks." She patted the ground next to her. "Now. Come and tell me why they wouldn't keep something like that secret."

Still scowling a little, Irina sat, her dress rumpled. "I don't know. Because - because propaganda is important in the space race. And, it inspires people to know that we have heroes."

"And why might we _not_ want people to know?"

Irina inclined her head thoughtfully. "So the capitalists can't copy us?" She hazarded. "Or say that they thought of it first, when we're still in training? And -" her face puckered into a pout, "we already have _one_ hero of the people. The Politbureau might not need a woman."

"Ah. All true. And I can see that the thought of not being needed does not please you, mila. Are you planning on being a hero of the people, then?" Elena teased. "On receiving the medal of Lenin, maybe?"

"Maybe," Irina said with the careless confidence of the young. "Maybe I'll be so famous they won't bother with a medal." And, as if treason was so easily committed, "they don't give medals to people they're scared of, do they?" She held out her hand while her sister stared her, thoughtful. "Can I have the seeds back, now? This place is drying my throat out."

_Elena?_

"Do you promise to behave?"

_Eli, I'm thirsty. I want some water._

"Do you, Ira?"

_And you can have some water, Ira. You can have all the water you want. Just tell me what I want to know._

"You're such a tyrant, sometimes," Irina said, laughing, ducking as Elena reached out to tweak one of her braids.

_Tell me what I want to know, mila._

Elena tucked the shawl back around her sister's shoulders as they turned back to camp. The tall grasses whipped their legs as they walked uphill, and Irina held fast to Elena's hand.

*

fin


End file.
